The Inevitable Weight Gain
by jocarpenter101
Summary: Hermione, Ginny, Luna and others. Ever wanted to see them a little chubbier, gaining weight? If you haven't, dreadfully sorry you had to see this. Move along now. If you have... well, that's what this is about, so have a read! Full of fun, humour, and food. Mainly food. Feel free to suggest any scene or character you want me to include - I'm very open to audience direction :P
1. Chapter 1

The Hogwarts express rattled on down the tracks, smoke puffing from the funnel as it steamed deep into Scotland. It was the first day of the new school year, and within all the students were laughing together as they prepared for another year of magical studies.  
Well... almost all of them. In one of the compartments, Hermione and Ginny were having less than a good time. They were putting on their uniforms after the long summer, and being rather less successful than they'd hoped.  
"Ginny?" Hermione said, puffing for breath, "Did Mrs Weasley mention anything about accidentally shrinking our uniforms? Perhaps while she washed them?"  
Ginny stood on the opposite side of the compartment, also breathing heavily.  
"I don't think so... or perhaps Fred and George are pranking us?"  
"Maybe," replied the brown haired girl, "let's try once more though."  
"Okay."  
They both sucked in their stomachs as much as they could, then quickly tried to button their school skirts, pulling the two flaps together as hard as they could manage. Finally, with a great heave, Ginny managed to slip the button home under her belly. She relaxed her stomach and it pushed forward, making the fabric of the uniform creak alarmingly, but the skirt was on.  
Hermione, on the other hand, had had no such luck. Even pulling with all her strength, the button was still a good inch and a half from its destination. She let go of the flaps.  
"Hopeless..." she sighed, pulling the skirt off altogether, "I had hoped I wouldn't have to do this, but..."  
"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, rubbing at where the waistband of her skirt cut into her flesh. It was already sore; she dreaded how it would feel after a couple of hours.  
"Well," replied Hermione, "I was reading the standard book of spells for this year over the summer. You probably saw?"  
"Yeah. You were going over it half the time you were at The Burrow."  
"It turns out I'll be using one of the spells in it rather earlier than I'd expected." She had taken out her wand and was kneeling over the skirt. She tapped it twice, then muttered something that sounded like "espandere aksis". Ginny watched as the skirt grew, but not in all directions as with an 'engorgio' charm, only around the waistband. After a second, the growth stopped.  
Hermione picked up the skirt again and pulled it on. It fitted near-perfectly, and she looked rather pleased with herself. Ginny watched enviously. If only she knew that spell...  
Together they pulled on their shirts and jumpers, both of which also seemed to have tightened a bit around the middle and chest. Nonetheless, they finished dressing without too much trouble and examined themselves in a conjured mirror.  
Ginny pulled her jumper down over her stomach, but it almost immediately sprang back up to reveal the pale roll of flesh that poured over her waistband. She sighed. Once they got to Hogwarts they could change into their spare uniforms, but for now, this would have to do. Together, they returned to the compartment where Ron and Harry had finished changing long ago.


	2. Chapter 2

The long walk up to the castle was an arduous one. The horseless carriages could only take them so far due to the new security measures, so they had to do the last bit on foot, something neither girl was used to. Ginny was more accustomed to Quidditch's arm strength training that walking, and Hermione had always been unfit, even back in primary school. A life of studying and practically nothing else will have that affect.

The issue was compounded for Ginny by her rather awkward clothing; her incredibly tight skirt was cutting into her midriff and forcing her breaths to be quick and very shallow. She also had to pull her top down constantly to keep her soft stomach even partially concealed; without her keeping it down, it rode up quickly past her belly button. Hermione had it slightly easier; her fitting skirt at least simplified things, but her top was still tight around her chest and stomach.

Finally they got to the main gates to Hogwarts, and both of them were openly panting. Despite her benefit in the clothing department, Hermione was still the worse off, struggling to breath despite the rests on the way up that had put them far behind Harry and Ron. When they'd finally caught their breath the two of them walked through the huge stone arch that led to the Hogwarts grounds. As they passed through they felt a strange feeling, akin to being doused in water that somehow sank into the skin.

Suddenly, Hermione felt a sudden sharp pain, all the way around her waistline. She doubled over with a moan as the spell that had expanded the skirt was lifted, and the material dug deep into her skin.

Ginny was at her shoulder.

"Hermione? Hermione?! Are you okay?"

She managed to straighten up, wincing. She took a few shallow breaths, before gesturing at her skirt. Ginny understood.

"The charm's lifted? Damn, must've been something to do with the gate. Try undoing the button, might alleviate some pressure."

But her words were unnecessary. As Hermione breathed in a bit too deeply, the button gave up its impossible struggle and popped off. Ginny caught it with a Quidditch player's reflexes and stuck it into her pocket as the other girl breathed properly again, gasping in great gulps of oxygen. Drops of blood beaded where the fabric had been so tight as to cut the skin.

"Damn, Hermione. That looks painful. Do you want to go see Madam Pomfrey?" asked Ginny, frowning, but Hermione shook her head.

"I'm okay…" She said, wiping away the blood. Even with the button gone the skirt was tight, but at least she could breathe now. She pulled her top down to conceal the damage. She had hardly grown any taller in months so it stayed in place without much of an issue, though if she moved too rapidly it would ride up. Still, there was nothing else to be done. Together, the two girls walked the remaining way up to the castle, both routinely tugging their shirts back into position.


	3. Chapter 3

The group of friends sat in the great hall: Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. It was the start of term feast, and they were all tucking in hungrily to the food before them. Over the six weeks of summer they had all got used to Mrs Weasley's 'four large meals a day' policy of cooking, a fact evident as they all ate with extraordinary gusto. Huge dishes of potatoes, Yorkshire puddings, parsnips, roast lamb, roast chicken, roast beef, gravy and all manner of other things burdened the table, though a considerable amount had already been consumed by the hungry students. In the Weasley household, it was customary to eat until you had reached your absolute limit, and then if you were being polite you ate a bit more. Luckily for most of the Weasley children, they had inherited their father's ultra-high metabolism and – combined with sport and a generally active lifestyle – had managed to stay on the skinny side. The exception to that rule was Ginny, who had inherited her mother's rather average metabolism. Hermione, who'd been staying at The Burrow all holiday whilst her parents were on holiday in Greece, had the same issue. Combined with both girls' relatively sedentary lifestyles, this had led to some rather predictable conclusions.

Ginny was shifting uncomfortably on the bench that she shared with Hermione. Her skirt, awkwardly tight even back on the train, was now extremely uncomfortable. Every few mouthfuls she'd try to adjust it, but it was too tight even to unbutton now. Her stomach rolled over the waistband, further confounding the issue. For someone barely into their teens she could eat an impressive amount, no doubt due to the years of being overfed every meal by her doting mother, and the infinite food on the table before her had led to the consumption of nearly four times the food a child of her age would normally eat. Mrs Weasley had been so pleased to _finally _get a girl when she had Ginny that she'd mollycoddled her rather badly, always making sure she cleaned her plate and ate dessert – and though the fiery-haired girl had slimmed down a fair bit through puberty, the extra pounds were now reappearing with a vengeance.

Finally she sat back from her thrice-cleaned plate, groaning. She tried again to undo her skirt button, but it was too tight and she couldn't bear to suck her stomach in when it was this painfully stuffed. Instead, she resorted to massaging her bulging midriff in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure, feeling her fingers sink through a layer of flab before reaching the solid gut underneath. Her sweater and shirt had ridden up so much by this point that practically her entire midsection was exposed, but she was far too full of good food to care; although she loved her mother's cooking, Hogwarts feast food was second to none, and she lost all control when it appeared magically on the tables. Then again, it wasn't as if she had much self control the rest of the time; she often found herself eating almost to the point of throwing up back at home, and it was a rare evening where she didn't end up lying immobile on her bed, simply digesting a massive meal.

She turned awkwardly to look at Hermione, and found that the other girl was in a similar situation, leaning back as best she could on the bench to accommodate her swollen belly. Unlike Ginny, the older girl's shirt was still mostly in place, though she had taken off her jumper. The buttons, however, were obviously straining to burst apart, and glimpses of pale flesh were visible between each overtaxed fastening.

Hermione's stay at The Burrow had taken a considerable toll on her body. Although she'd been slightly chubby for most of her life, it'd never been anything more than a slightly rounded belly and chunky thighs. Staying with the Weasley's, however, had changed that - at first, she'd had difficulty adding another meal to her day, but she'd quickly got used to it; what was more difficult to acclimatise to was the sheer _scale_ of the repasts. As far as Molly was concerned, any meal one could walk properly after was a meal wasted, and that was something Hermione hadn't experienced before. Her parents had never limited her portions, but they'd never really been _unlimited _either. Eating for pleasure was something she rarely did, but at The Burrow it became a way of life. Worse, snacks were _everywhere_ \- Little pots of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans littered the shelves, and chunks of toffee sat in bowls like golden apples on every table. After a while, Hermione had begun to eat handfuls of the stuff without ever noticing, only realising how much she'd eaten when she'd already sat down to the next meal already feeling full; and by then, it was far too late.

"Good food, huh?" Ginny grunted, and the older girl nodded.

"I always forget just how good it is." She patted her distended gut, looking rather sheepish. "I wonder how it's made…" She trailed off thoughtfully

"Magic." Interjected Ron, who'd also finished his meal. "At this place, it's always magic."

"Maybe the centaurs make it?" Suggested Harry jokingly. Ginny giggled at that, but stopped hastily – it made her belly ache.

"I don't think you can make food by magic." Hermione addressed Ron, who already looked like he regretted saying anything. "It's one of Gamp's laws, I think."

"Whatever, Hermione. As long as Gamp doesn't interfere with me getting my dessert, I don't care."

At this, Hermione and Ginny shot each other a horrified look. Dessert! With the main course being so delicious, they'd completely forgotten about the finale – and both were already full to bursting. They both looked down apprehensively at their bulging midsections, but before either of them could dwell on it too long, the remaining food on the plates shimmered and disappeared, replaced a moment later by great mounds of pudding. Directly in front of Ginny a vast bowl of ice cream glittered, sugary white ripples confounding her as effectively as any charm. Forgetting, somehow, the immense pressure already blooming in her midsection, she reached forward absently and started scooping great dollops of the stuff onto her plate.

Just to her right, her actions were being mirrored spoonful for spoonful, mouthful for mouthful, by Hermione.


	4. Chapter 4

"Damnit! It must be Fred and George. It's the only explanation."  
Ginny flung another outgrown skirt back into her trunk and sat down on the edge of Hermione's bed, sighing. She'd dragged her trunk through into her friend's dorm first thing that morning, the moment she realised that yesterday hadn't just been an anomaly - NONE of her clothes fit.  
"I guess...," acknowledged Hermione, trying to button up a shirt with little success. "I don't suppose they could have been shrunk any other way?"  
"None that I can think of." Ginny lay back on Hermione's bed with a sigh. The two had barely made it to Gryffindor tower last night, so stuffed were they from the feast - Ginny hadn't even had time to change into her nightclothes she'd collapsed into bed so quickly. Now though her stomach was rumbling hungrily again - the pair's clothing trouble had already made them a few minutes late for breakfast.  
"Well, I've tried every counter-charm I know and it's done nothing." Hermione complained, looking put-out. She didn't like being outdone - especially not by the Weasley twins. "We'll have wear these for now, and talk to them at breakfast. It's not like we CAN'T wear the things, after all."  
"I guess..." Ginny was feeling annoyed. She still had a red mark around her middle where the waistband of her skirt had chafed the previous night, and she did not at all like the prospect of having to put on more clothes that didn't fit. She wasn't nervous about showing her body (that would require some modicum of self-awareness, after all) but she preferred it when her clothes didn't feel like they were cutting her in half. "Can't we just use that spell you used on the train yesterday?" She asked.

"There's a reason witches don't go around wearing transfigured clothes if they can help it, Ginny." Hermione began. "If you get too close to a counter-spell, or go through a charmed entranceway like I did last night – well, you saw what happened. It can be dangerous! Cindrolda the Wise, the headmistress of Hogwarts back in the 1700s, was almost killed when her dress turned back into a pumpkin after her transfiguration was…"

Ginny had tuned out though, as she normally did when Hermione started lecturing. She glanced down at herself distractedly, and frowned as she noticed that even her bra was too tight. W-wait! Did -did that mean Fred and George had been through her underwear?

Before she could think much on it though, she realised Hermione had stopped talking and was looking at her expectantly.

"Uhm… yes?" She guessed, trying ineffectually to work out what the question might have been.

"Fine! Sure. Ignore my advice then." Hermione complained huffily. "I'm going to go and get breakfast; the spell is 'Espandere Aksis'. Good luck." And with that, the older girl stomped out, shirt still only half-buttoned over her chest. Ginny raised an eyebrow as she watched her go, but once she was gone she turned back to the clothes in her trunk, considering. She _really_ didn't want to wear clothes as uncomfortably tight as yesterday's if she could help it… ah, what harm could it do anyway? She grabbed a shirt that she distinctly remembered fitting last year, and pointed her wand at it.

"Espandere Aksis."

As if by magic – which of course it was – the shirt loosened, expanding all over. She grinned to herself – why hadn't Hermione wanted to use this again? It worked great!

A few minutes later she stood in front of the mirror back in her own dorm, admiring her reflection. She'd cast the 'Espandere Aksis' charm on, altogether, her shirt, her skirt, her jumper, and her underwear. She'd even managed to get that cute bra she'd grown out of a couple of years ago to fit again. She only brought it to Hogwarts nowadays for sentimental reasons – she never thought she'd actually wear it again!

Smiling happily to herself imagining how uncomfortable Hermione must be right then compared to her, she pulled on her shoes (one of the few things she _hadn't _had to cast a spell on to make fit) and skipped downstairs towards the Great Hall, stomach grumbling loudly in anticipation of the meal that awaited her.


	5. Chapter 5

Despite the energy with which Ginny set off to the Great Hall that morning, by the time she actually got there she was feeling rather worn out. Her rounded cheeks were red from the exertion of hurrying all the way down from Gryffindor Tower, and her stomach was rumbling more loudly than ever now that it had been jostled about so much. Had Hogwarts always had so many stairs? She was sure the walk hadn't been as long and strenuous last year – ah well, it was probably nothing to worry about. The castle's architecture was inconsistent at the best of times; it had probably just added another dozen steps to every staircase again.

She approached the double doors to head into the hall, but was rather surprised as she caught sight Hermione leaning against the wall just beside them, breathing heavily.

"Y'alright, Hermione?" She asked concerned, but the larger girl straightened up as she approached, wiping sweat from her brow.

"Yeah, just having a- having a little rest before I head in. I'd forgotten how many stairs Hogwarts has, and I can't breathe too well in these clothes."

Ginny looked her up and down, before nodding sympathetically. The older girl's clothes _did _look pretty constricting – her shirt was straining at the seams, little diamonds of pale flab revealed between each struggling button, and her skirt was so tight that the waistband was completely hidden beneath the soft overflow of her stomach.

"You shoulda used the spell you gave me! It works great." Ginny gave a little twirl, showing off her newly-fitting clothes. Hermione frowned at her, but looked too puffed to bother lecturing her - instead, she led the way into the Great Hall and to the Gryffindor table. It seemed as though Fred and George hadn't arrived yet, so the two sat down to have a bite to eat before they asked the twins what had happened to their clothes.

The Gryffindor benches were already rather crowded with breakfasters, but they quickly spotted Harry and Ron and hurried over to sit opposite them. The two girls squeezed in, but a moment later a first year yelped as she was partly squashed beneath Hermione's expansive rear.

"Oh, sorry!" Hermione jumped up again as she realised what had happened. "I, ah, didn't see you there." That wasn't entirely true – she had seen the girl, but her brain still hadn't caught up with her body; as far as she was concerned, her hips were still as narrow as they had ever been.

"T's'okay." The girl muttered, moving up as best she could to allow Hermione the room needed sit down. Despite her efforts though it was barely enough, and they all ended up wedged tightly together on the bench. It was only fortunate that Ginny's figure was rather boyish, holding most of her excess pounds around her waist instead of on her hips like Hermione. Had she been any wider, someone would have had to stand – and it certainly wouldn't have been either of the hungry girls.

Without even greeting Harry or Ron, the two began shovelling food onto their plates and into their mouth, and in record time great mounds of toast slathered with butter, eggs, bacon, baked beans and sausages had all disappeared into the two girls' capacious stomachs. They ate so quickly as to barely even taste the food, not even chewing most mouthfuls before swallowing them down into their increasingly-strained guts. In less time than it took to perform an intermediate transfiguration, the two were sitting back from the table, thoroughly stuffed.

All told, the two had eaten a similar amount - although Ginny was a year younger, she had the advantage of practice. Ever since she was a toddler, Mrs Weasley had delighted in overfeeding her – one of her earliest memories was sitting at the kitchen table, moaning at the stuffed, uncomfortable feeling in her stomach but also crying piteously for more food. She felt that discomfort again today – though not as strained as last night, her poor stretched stomach was once again filled to (and beyond) its capacity – and yet she still desired more food. For once though, her common sense overwhelmed her lust; she had lessons to attend today. She'd eat more later, and perhaps sneak a snack in one of her lessons.

Hermione, however, was more concerned for the state of her clothes. She couldn't see much of her skirt past the distended bulge of her gut, but as she'd eaten that last slice of toast she could've sworn she'd felt stitches pop. The skirt was unbuttoned – it had been completely hopeless to so much as attempt to fasten it that morning – and that had given her a bit of extra breathing room, but now even that was agonisingly tight, digging into the soft flesh of her underbelly.

"Hey, Hermione." Ginny elbowed her friend in the ribs – or rather, in the flabby love handle that covered her ribs. "Fred and George are here! Let's go ask 'em about our clothes." She gestured at the double doors, where the Weasley twins had indeed just appeared.

"Ugh…" Hermione groaned – she _really_ didn't feel like standing up right then. Her meal had just started digesting, and there was so much pressure inside her she feared she might burst if she moved too suddenly. Still, she couldn't go around in these clothes forever.

Reluctantly, she levered herself to her feet and followed Ginny towards the redheaded twins, cradling her aching belly all the while.


	6. Chapter 6

"Oy! Fred, George." Ginny intercepted the pair, setting herself squarely in front of them with hands on hips. A moment later Hermione arrived behind her, still clutching her aching belly. "What have you done with our clothes?" She demanded. "Did you shrink them or something? They weren't like this last year!"

Fred and George glanced at each other, both silently asking if the other was to blame but coming up with nothing. Then they looked back at the swollen girls.

The answer, honestly, was obvious to anyone looking at them – they'd put on weight, and a lot of it – but neither girl seemed to comprehend that in the slightest.

"Well, uh – it wasn't us, we swear."

Ginny stepped towards them, poking George in the chest with one pudgy finger.

"I don't believe you."

"It's true!" The brother protested. "Maybe you two have just… grown?" He ventured, but Ginny shook her head.

"I've barely gotten any taller this summer, so no. And Hermione hasn't in years!"

"That's, uh, not quite the type of growing I meant…" muttered Fred, but he let it drop. "Have you tried any counterspells?"

Hermione stepped forward.

"I've tried all the ones _I_ know, so it's probably irreversible." She declared irritably. Fred and George shrugged.

"I dunno, we might know a couple. Fred, what's that transfiguration–termination one?"

"Peractio?"  
"Yeah that one. Have you tried that?" He raised his wand and started the spell, Ginny realising what he was doing a second too late to stop him.

"Wait- oof!" All the air was forced from Ginny's lungs as her transfigured clothes clamped down on her, squashing her body in every direction. For half a second she teetered in place, gasping in pain, then with a sound of tearing seams that echoed around the Great Hall her clothing splintered.

Every button on her shirt popped off as one, bouncing like tossed dice across the stone floor and scattering across the room. The clasp of her bra wrenched itself apart with a crack, allowing the old favourite to fall away from her bulging chest. Her skirt burst open down the front, revealing her panties – also straining, but fortunately holding for now. Before she could so much as blink, she stood in the shreds of her clothes, half naked in front of the entire Great Hall.

Harry and Ron stared open-mouthed as Ginny sprinted from the hall, desperately clutching what tattered remains she could to her in an attempt to preserve some meagre scrap of modesty. They hadn't heard what the girls had been discussing with the Weasley twins, but they certainly _had_ been watching as Ginny's clothes seemed to self-destruct.

Ron was looking rather horrified, an expression mirrored on the faces of Fred and George - they'd had no desire to see quite so much of their sister, that day or ever. Harry on the other hand was feeling flustered, face almost as red as Ginny's had been. He couldn't decide how he felt about the youngest Weasley, and this had done nothing to settle his feelings.

The rest of the breakfasters' reactions ranged from disgusted scowls to elated giggles, depending mostly on gender and year. A few older boys had already sidled up to Fred and George, and were quietly asking for more details on the "clothesplosion" spell they had just witnessed – and looking morbidly curious as to why the first test subject had been their sister. Up at the head table, the teachers were all looking resolutely disinterested – this kind of thing wasn't uncommon in Hogwarts, and as no film cameras functioned on the grounds, it would quickly be forgotten by all who didn't possess a pensieve. A policy of feigned ignorance was usually the most efficient, they had found.

"I really should go after her…" Hermione muttered to herself, taking a couple of steps towards the double doors. Before she'd even drawn close however, her belly gave a lurch, gurgling angrily, and she doubled over groaning. "Ooooh… okay, I might have overdone it a little this morning." She confessed under her breath. "I'll just have a little sit-down..." She collapsed heavily onto the end of the Gryffindor bench, leaning her back against the table in an attempt to give her stomach some room. Ahhh… that was better.

"Miss Granger." Her eyes snapped open – though she hadn't even realised they'd been shut – and she was dismayed to see Professor McGonagall eyeing her disapprovingly. "Can I have a word?"

Oh no – what was it now?! Right then, Hermione just wanted to lie down and digest; but even in this state, she couldn't say 'no' to a teacher.

"Of course Professor." She said, and heaving herself to her feet, followed the Transfiguration teacher out of the Great Hall.

_Author's note:_

_Does anyone have any particular preferences as to, ah, 'shipping', for lack of a better word? I have no particular favourite couple or anything like that, so if anyone has a pair they want to see drop me a note in the form of a review or pm. Else I'll just do whatever strikes my fancy :P_

_Thanks!_


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